The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 3 of 5)

'No, no, I don't mean that aunt; I mean your young aunt, that used to be so all alive and clever. What's become of her?'

'O, I dare say it's my sister you are thinking of?'

'Ay, it's like enough; for she's young enough, to be sure; only you look such a mere child. Pray how is she now? I was very sorry to hear of her cutting her throat.'

A titter, which was immediately exalted into a hearty laugh by the Miss Crawleys, was all the answer.

'It was not right to do such a thing,' he continued; 'very wrong indeed. There's no need to be afraid of not dying soon enough, for we only come to be gone! I pitied her, however, with all my heart, for love is but a dangerous thing; it makes older persons than she is go astray, one way or other. And it was but unkind of Mr Harleigh not to marry her, whether he liked or not, to save her from such a naughty action. And pray what is become of that pretty creature that used to teach you all music? I have enquired for her at Miss Matson's, often; but I always forgot where they said she was gone. Indeed they made me a little angry about her, which, probably, was the reason that I could never recollect what they told me of her direction.'

'Angry, Mr Giles?' repeated Mrs Ireton, with an air of restored complacency; 'What was it, then, they said of her? Not that I am very curious to hear it, as I presume you will believe! You won't imagine it, I presume, a matter of the first interest to me!'

'O, what they said of her was very bad! very bad, indeed; and that's the reason I give no credit to it.'

'Well, well, but what was it?' cried Ireton.

'Why they told me that she was turned toad-eater.'

Universal and irresistible smiles throughout the whole company, to the exception of Lady Barbara and Sir Jaspar, now heightened the embarrassment of Juliet into pain and distress: but the young Loddard every moment struggled to escape into the garden, through the window; and she did not dare quit her post.

'So I asked them what they meant,' Mr Giles continued; 'for I never heard of any body's eating toads; though I am assured our neighbours, on t'other bank, are so fond of frogs. But they made it out, that it only meant a person who would swallow any thing, bad or good; and do whatever he was bid, right or wrong; for the sake of a little pay.'

This definition by no means brought the assembly back to its gravity; but while Juliet, ashamed and indignant, kept her face turned constantly towards the garden, Ireton called out, 'Why you don't speak to your little friend, Loddard, Mr Giles. There he is, at the window.'

Mr Giles now, notwithstanding her utmost efforts to avoid his eyes, perceived the blushing Juliet; though, doubting his sight, he stared and exclaimed, 'Good la! that lady's very like Miss Ellis! And, I protest, 'tis she herself! And just as pretty as ever! And with the same innocent face that not a soul can either buy or make, but God Almighty himself!'

He then enquired after her health and welfare, with a cordiality that somewhat lessened the pain caused by the general remark that was produced by his address: but the relief was at an end upon his adding, 'I wanted to see you prodigiously, for I have never forgotten your paying your debts so prettily, against your will, that morning. It fixed you in my good opinion. I hope, however, it is a mistake, what they tell me, that you are turned what they call toad-eater? and have let yourself out, at so much a year, to say nothing that you think; and to do nothing that you like; and to beg pardon when you are not in fault; and to eat all the offals; and to be beat by the little gentleman; and worried by the little dog? I hope all that's mere misapprehension, my dear; for it would be but a very mean way of getting money.'

The calmness of conscious superiority, with which Juliet heard the beginning of these interrogatories, was converted into extreme confusion, by their termination, from the appearance of justice which the incidents of the morning had given to the attack.

'For now,' continued he, 'that you have paid all your debts, you ought to hold up your head; for, where nothing is owing, we are all of us equal, rich and poor; another man's riches no more making him my superiour, or benefactor, if I do not partake of them, than my poverty makes me his servant, or dependent, if I neither work for, nor am benefited by him. And I am your witness that you gave every one his due. So don't let any body put you out of your proper place.'

The mortification of Juliet, at this public exhortation, upon a point so delicate, was not all that she had to endure: the little dog, who, though incessantly tormented by the little boy, always followed him; kept scratching her gown; to be helped up to the window, that he might play with, or snarl at him, more at his ease; and the boy, making a whip of his pocket-handkerchief, continually attracted, though merely to repulse him; while Juliet, seeking alternately to quiet both, had not a moment's rest.

'Why now, what's all this my pretty lady?' cried Mr Giles, perceiving her situation. 'Why do you let those two plagueful things torment you so? Why don't you teach them to be better behaved.'

'Miss Ellis would be vastly obliging, certainly,' with a supercilious brow, said Mrs Ireton, 'to correct my nephew! I don't in the least mean to contest her abilities for superintending his chastisement; not in the least, I assure you! But only, as I never heard of my brother's giving her such a carte blanche; and as I don't recollect having given it myself, – although I may have done it, again, perhaps, in my sleep! – I should be happy to learn by what authority she would be invested with such powers of discipline?'

'By what authority? That of humanity, Ma'am! Not to spoil a poor ignorant little fellow-creature; nor a poor innocent little beast.'

'It would be immensely amiable of her, Sir, no doubt,' said Mrs Ireton, reddening, 'to take charge of the morals of my household; immensely! I only hope you will be kind enough to instruct the young person, at the same time, how she may hold her situation? That's all! I only hope that!'

'How? Why by doing her duty! If she can't hold it by that, 'tis her duty to quit it. Nobody is born to be trampled upon.'

'I hope, too, soon,' said Mrs Ireton, scoffingly, 'nobody will be born to be poor!'

'Good! true!' returned he, nodding his head. 'Nobody should be poor! That is very well said. However, if you think her so poor, I can give you the satisfaction to shew you your mistake. She mayn't, indeed, be very rich, poor lady, at bottom; but still – '

'No, indeed, am I not!' hastily cried Juliet, frightened at the communication which she saw impending.

'But still,' continued he, 'if she is poor, it is not for want of money; nor for want of credit, neither; for she has bank-notes in abundance in one of her work-bags; and not a penny of them is her own! which shews her to be a person of great honour.'

Every one now looked awakened to a new curiosity; and Selina exclaimed, 'O la! have you got a fortune, then, my dear Ellis? O! I dare say, then, my guess will prove true at last! for I dare say you are a princess in disguise?'

'As far as disguise goes, Selina,' answered Mrs Maple, 'we have never, I think, disputed! but as to a princess!..'

'A princess?' repeated Mrs Ireton. 'Upon my word, this is an honour I had not imagined! I own my stupidity! I can't but own my stupidity; but I really had never imagined myself so much honoured, as to suspect that I had a princess under my roof, who was so complaisant as to sing, and play, and read to me, at my pleasure; and to study how to amuse and divert me! I confess, I had never suspected it! I am quite ashamed of my total want of sagacity; but it had never occurred to me!'

'And why not, Ma'am?' cried Mr Giles. 'Why may not a princess be pretty, and complaisant, and know how to sing and play, and read, as well as another lady? She is just as able to learn as you, or any common person. I never heard that a princess took her rank in the place of her faculties. I know no difference; except that, if she does the things with good nature, you ought to love and honour her the double, in consideration of the great temptation she has to be proud and idle, and to do nothing. We all envy the great, when we ought only to revere them if they are good, and to pity them if they are bad; for they have the same infirmities that we have; and nobody that dares put them in mind of them: so that they often go to the grave, before they find out that they are nothing but poor little men and women, like the rest of us. For my part, when I see them worthy, and amiable, I look up to them as prodigies! Whereas, a common person, such as you, or I, Ma'am, – '

Mrs Ireton, unable to bear this phrase, endeavoured to turn the attention of the company into another channel, by abruptly calling upon Juliet to go to the piano-forte.

Juliet entreated to be excused.

'Excused? And why, Ma'am? What else have you got to do? What are your avocations? I shall really take it as a favour to be informed.'

'Don't teize her, pretty lady; don't teize her,' cried Mr Giles. 'If she likes to sing, it's very agreeable; but if not, don't make a point of it, for it's not a thing at all essential.'

'Likes it?' repeated Mrs Ireton, superciliously; 'We must do nothing, then, but what we like? Even when we are in other people's houses? Even when we exist only through the goodness of some of our superiours? Still we are to do only what we like? I am quite happy in the information! Extremely obliged for it, indeed! It will enable me, I hope, to rectify the gross errour of which I have been guilty; for I really did not know I had a young lady in my house, who was to make her will and taste the rule for mine! and, as I suppose, to have the goodness to direct my servants; as well as to take the trouble to manage me. I knew nothing of all this, I protest. I thought, on the contrary, I had engaged a young person, who would never think of taking such a liberty as to give her opinion; but who would do, as she ought, with respect and submission, whatever I should indicate.' —

'Good la, Ma'am,' interrupted Mr Giles: 'Why that would be leading the life of a slave! And that, I suppose, is what they meant, all this time, by a toad-eater. However, don't look so ashamed, my pretty dear, for a toad-eater-maker is still worse! Fie, fie! What can rich people be thinking of, to lay out their money in buying their fellow-creatures' liberty of speech and thought! and then paying them for a bargain which they ought to despise them for selling?'

This unexpected retort turning the smiles of the assembly irresistibly against the lady of the mansion, she hastily renewed her desire that Juliet would sing.

'Sing, Ma'am?' cried Mr Giles. 'Why a merry-andrew could not do it, after being so affronted! Bless my heart! Tell a human being that she must only move to and fro, like a machine? Only say what she is bid, like a parrot? Employ her time, call forth her talents, exact her services, yet not let her make any use of her understanding? Neither say what she approves, nor object to what she dislikes? Poor, pretty young thing! You were never so much to be pitied, in the midst of your worst distresses, as when you were relived upon such terms! Fie upon it, fie! – How can great people be so little?'

The mingled shame and resentment of Mrs Ireton, at a remonstrance so extraordinary and so unqualified, were with difficulty kept within the bounds of decorum; for though she laughed, and affected to be extremely diverted, her laugh was so sharp, and forced, that it wounded every ear; and, through the amusement that she pretended to receive, it was obvious that she suffered torture, in restraining herself from ordering her servants to turn the orator out of the room.

With looks much softened, though in a manner scarcely less fervent, Mr Giles then, approaching Juliet, repeated, 'Don't be cast down I say, my pretty lady! You are none the worse for all this. The thing is but equal, at last; so we must not always look at the bad side of our fate. State every thing fairly; you have got your talents, your prettiness, and your winning ways, – but you want these ladies' wealth: they, have got their wealth, their grandeur, and their luxuries; but they want your powers of amusing. You can't well do without one another. So it's best be friends on both sides.'

Mrs Ireton, now, dying to give some vent to her spleen, darted the full venom of her angry eyes upon Juliet, and called out, 'You don't see, I presume, Miss Ellis, what a condition Bijou has put that chair in? 'T would be too great a condescension for you, I suppose, just to give it a little pat of the hand, to shake off the crumbs? Though it is not your business, I confess! I confess that it is not your business! Perhaps, therefore, I am guilty of an indiscretion in giving you such a hint. Perhaps I had better let Lady Kendover, or Lady Arramede, or Mrs Brinville, or any other of the ladies, sit upon the dirt, and soil their clothes? You may think, perhaps, that it will be for the advantage of the mercer, or the linen-draper? You may be considering the good of trade? or perhaps you may think I may do such sort of menial offices for myself?'

However generally power may cause timidity, arrogance, in every generous mind, awakens spirit; Juliet, therefore, raising her head, and, clearing her countenance, with a modest, but firm step, moved silently towards the door.

Astonished and offended, 'Permit me, Madam,' cried Mrs Ireton; 'permit me, Miss Ellis, – if it is not taking too great a liberty with a person of your vast consequence, – permit me to enquire who told you to go?'

Juliet turned back her head, and quietly answered, 'A person, Madam, who has not the honour to be known to you, – myself!' And then steadily left the room.

CHAPTER LVII

An answer so little expected, from one whose dependent state had been so freely discussed, caused a general surprize, and an almost universal demand of who the young person might be, and what she could mean. The few words that had dropt from her had as many commentators as hearers. Some thought their inference important; others, their mystery suspicious; and others mocked their assumption of dignity. Tears started into the eyes of Lady Barbara; while those of Sir Jaspar were fixed, meditatively, upon the head of his crutch; but the complacent smile of admiration, exhibited by Mr Giles, attracted the notice of the whole assembly, by the peals of laughter which it excited in the Miss Crawleys.

With rage difficultly disguised without, but wholly ungovernable within, Mrs Ireton would instantly have revenged what she considered as the most heinous affront that she had ever received, by expelling its author ignominiously from her house, but for the still sharpened curiosity with which her pretentions to penetration became piqued, from the general cry of 'How very extraordinary that Mrs Ireton has never been able to discover who she is!'

When Juliet, therefore, conceiving her removal from this mansion to be as inevitable, as her release from its tyranny was desirable, made known, as soon as the company was dispersed, that she was ready to depart; she was surprised by a request, from Mrs Ireton, to stay a day or two longer; for the purpose of taking care of Mr Loddard the following morning; as Mrs Ireton, who had no one with whom she could trust such a charge, had engaged herself to join a party to see Arundel Castle.

Little as Juliet felt disposed to renew her melancholy wanderings, her situation in this house appeared to her so humiliating, nay degrading, that neither this message, nor the fawning civilities with which, at their next meeting, Mrs Ireton sought to mitigate her late asperity, could prevail with her to consent to any delay beyond that which was necessary for obtaining the counsel of Gabriella; to whom she wrote a detailed account of what had passed; adding, 'How long must I thus waste my time and my existence, separated from all that can render them valuable, while fastened upon by constant discomfort and disgust? O friend of my heart, friend of my earliest years, earliest feelings, juvenile happiness, – and, alas! maturer sorrows! why must we thus be sundered in adversity? Oh how, – with three-fold toil, should I revive by the side of my beloved Gabriella! – Dear to me by every tie of tender recollection; dear to me by the truest compassion for her sufferings, and reverence for her resignation; and dear to me, – thrice dear! by the sacred ties of gratitude, which bind me for ever to her honoured mother, and to her venerated, saint-like uncle, my pious benefactor!'

She then tenderly proposed their immediate re-union, at whatever cost of fatigue, or risk, it might be obtained; and besought Gabriella to seek some small room, and to enquire for some needle-work; determining to appropriate to a journey to town, the little sum which she might have to receive for the long and laborious fortnight, which she had consigned to the terrible enterprize of aiming at amusing, serving, or interesting, one whose sole taste of pleasure consisted in seeking, like Strife, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, occasion for dissension.